Street of Crocodiles
by CampionSayn
Summary: When joining the Legion and having his scars noticed for the first time in a long time, many are want to ask, "What did they do to you?" 'They', is an awfully broad spectrum to consider over for Mekt Ranzz. Especially when his brother and Saturn Girl are the ones to ask the question.


_The world breaks everybody, and afterwards, many are stronger at the broken places._  
 _-Ernest Hemingway._

* * *

When Garth put forth the application for his brother to enter into the Legion, to say that the voting had come down to the wire could have been classified as an understatement. It was true, absolutely it was true that they needed new blood after the incident with Brainic 1.0 because many of them were dispatched throughout the galaxy to help rebuild the peoples' trust, but history and prejudice still ran the gambit when it came to anyone that had spent any sort of time in Takron-Galtos prison.

And those that had been considered before had been guards, not inmates.

But Garth had been adamant in his reasoning-some would call it begging-and still, there had been a voting session to see if he could be trusted just enough to be taken on as a substitute or probationary member.

Cosmic Boy (it always seemed to be him when it came to difficulties and formalities and strict abiding of rules and guidelines; which would have made him a perfect politician, but worked poorly when it came to everything else) had stipulated that if they were to vote, Garth had to recuse himself, to keep things fair and without any conflict of interest.

It really said something that Garth had agreed without argument.

The date was set, the votes were cast and Garth had breathed a significant sigh of gratitude and relief when the numbers came in and, thanks to Imra, Bouncy, Violet and (surprise of surprises) Kell-El; Mekt was to be welcomed as a probationary member of the Legion.

That was a month previous and Imra still found herself sick to her stomach half of the time she was around the elder Ranzz brother.

* * *

 _'Too thin, too hollowed out on the inside, too unsure of surroundings and noises and, and, and...'_

"Have you talked to your brother about those scars on his back?"

* * *

 _[The mission in deep space had been a success, Mekt for once being one of the forerunners with Kell on account of actually knowing what to expect from the planet in which they received a distress call from a passenger ship that had crashed; a dangerous planet, the likes of which few people ever went to, so when Cosmic Boy had asked, as he was want to do, "What brought you out to a place like this?" Mekt had simply shrugged it off with a cheeky smile and wave of his hands (false, lying, a porcelain mask that was a poor wage for a lifetime worth of just managing to survive- **stop it** ) and a simple, "I was never good at staying out of trouble if it meant a good adventure."_

 _It had not been a good time from the moment they touched down ship to ground, layered streets and buildings made of black or brown brick, with the windows high up in the buildings that were even higher. Mist that made everything tint an almost grey color, with green here and there from streetlamps laced with artificial moss that might well have caused madness, making it impossible to see more in front of one's face than a block of craggy, quiet street and decrepit doorways at a time._

 _"Uh, Mekt, it's kinda cold, I think you're gonna want your cape for once," Garth had joked before they left the ship, a little curious as to why his brother had taken off the thing that both made him noticeably more himself-as Garth knew him; flashy, sure of himself, a little vain-as well as covered him in case of gunfire with the Kevlar lining the inside, only to replace it with a satchel full of medical supplies._

 _"No, not here; might get caught on something."_

 _Imra and Garth, silently and mutually, because of their closeness and attachment, looked at each other at that, a simple sentence that carried a kind of weight that spoke of more experience than could be let on._

 _He'd blinked blue eyes and her magenta, looking over to his brother walking down the ramp and she'd obliged with a peek inside Mekt for the both of them._

 _ **{Blue energy the likes of which would almost be beautiful if not for the chill instead of warmth provided by it-that wrenching ache that never seemed to go away; but rather seemed to build up and up like bricks for a tower, or vines and weeds in a hothouse lacking a caretaker-memory of the place they were in and he had been and hadn't been unwilling to return to if it meant he never had to run into the things that ran the planet that were neither soulless mechanics, nor compassionate beings with pity enough to spare anything or anyone stupid enough to disturb them in their natural habitat of cut glass architecture and the mist and cut meat not to be eaten, but to be chopped and cut and burned in sacrifice to mere curiosity-}**_

 _'Imra, let go!'_

 _Saturn Girl had to stop herself from stepping away from Mekt; afraid, so afraid, of something from his **before** that had been so horrifying as to be unspeakable. Garth took his hand to her's and both were steady, for the moment, as Mekt finished getting ready and took point without making a spectacle or drawing attention undue from Rokk._

 _The beings of that planet did not have name or language, akin almost to Coluans, but **not** ; dressed much like clothed mannequins of the 18th Century on Earth, faces of white stone, eye holes bleeding black matter, mouth painted pink but without any impression of smiling, the rest of their frames mechanical and...sharp._

 _"Trouble needs a home in the universe... I don't think that sort of energy just disappears, do you?" Mekt had asked many rhetorical questions, nearly philosophic, when they had found there was no using their flight rings for anything but language, flight leading to the mist flaring green and choking them like birds in smog; but the questions were answers to leave out the middle ground of any of the others talking. Mekt didn't raise his voice more than that if he would have been in a house of worship and been speaking with a holy figure._

 _Mekt had ended up saving each and every one of the other Legionnaires in their turns when they'd inevitably made fantastic mistakes trying to save the distressed ship wrecked and holding out for them..._

 _...A string had run the length of one street, hard and silver wire that held just inches above the ground and knotted in the center of where three points met-of course Cosmic Boy and plucked it, hint not taken when Mekt had stepped over it carefully and tried to carry on: each end of the wire had loosened enough to start up a series of buildings opening wide their doors and windows, some sharp and blunt objects like diamonds being spat out at speeds and force that would have hurt many of them. Mekt simply lead them under a black umbrella at a not-quite-cafe that propelled the objects away._

 _...There had been a clear puddle in the middle of the next street, down an alley, that Imra had nearly fallen through to the other side of that world; hot black smoke circling her and she had touched something **wet** , but both Ranzz brothers had grabbed her outreaching hands before she knew what._

 _...Kell had tried to talk to one of the planet's people, it's **(it-it-it-no gender, no feelings, no real face)** pale metal hands reaching out to hand Superman X something; however, whatever it had been, the rest had not seen, as the clone was yanked away, protectively and quietly. But there had been something like the sound of a sharp metal pin hitting the stones-the bricks had stopped by the time they'd gotten to the town's center, where the roofing converged and melded to seem like a citadel that wanted to keep them inside, very oppressive, very cold-before Mekt had sped up the pace and tried not to make it obvious of how much his eyes kept widening enough to make out the whites and the red veins bordering them._

 _...They had separated then, though they still had trouble finding how, Mekt being two feet ahead of them and the others only a quick motion behind. Perhaps it had been one of the planet beings catching their collective glance for only a second, maybe the mist had flooded the street and played a trick on their senses, maybe...maybe the planet itself had wanted them to be alone and away from someone that knew it was nothing but trouble._

 _It figured that, by the time they'd found the ship and got off of the planet, Mekt's medical supplies had run to empty; not enough gauze for the glass cuts along his own frame, Garth still apologizing for not listening when Mekt had told him **not to speak** and ended up making his brother pay for it because he hadn't thought it really meant what it actually did...]_

* * *

"I," Garth paused from looking through the Legion kitchen's refrigerator, completely forgetting what he had been looking for to turn to his girlfriend, finding her with that look she kept getting after any time spent with both Mekt and himself; that perpetual look of knowing and wanting to say more than what she could, but unable because of her honor and intentions only being able to overlap so much on one subject, "...I wanted to. I tried. He didn't..."

"He changed the subject?"

"Yeah," Garth sighed, miserable as he took a seat across the island from his girlfriend and hunkered down so his arms were crossed and he could rest his chin on the counter, "Just like when it came to his weight and his eating habits and his nightmares and... everything else."

Imra sipped from the stone cold drink that was still basically coffee without any joy to it at all and sighed, accompanying Garth's misery with her own and letting the feeling of it _(like being told a worse suspicion was true the moment it was thought in obscurity; like walking into a greenhouse nursery with buds fresh cut and smelling of insecticides)_ just cycle between them, thinking.

* * *

 _'Come home whenever you want.'_

...

 _'Don't come back here.'_

* * *

The bridges broke, as they often were meant to, when the time was just right-after Ayla was graduating school early. With honors of many kinds for academia and sports and arts. She had thrived and surpassed expectations in just two years; many of her teachers said she would be ready for university in a matter of months, exciting her parents, who were want to celebrate in style once she received a special diploma in an auditorium, cameras and other students, parents, teachers and some reporters from Winath there to be witness the honor.

Garth had been invited to attend. Mekt had not.

If Imra and Garth hadn't understood things before when they were right on the edge, like seeing a blackish red smudge or droplet of blood in a morgue made of alabaster marble, then they did then.

"What about Mekt? Ayla will want to see him, don't you think?"

Their parents _(Imra was finding it harder and harder to even think of them that way since their affection was pronounced and obvious and true when looking upon Garth and Ayla like one might look upon holy beings or a prodigy set, but they just seemed to look at Mekt like wooden dolls look upon the infant they're given to; glassy, wooden, not real)_ had looked at their younger son and, when they seemed to be ready to say something that Imra knew and Garth, yes, he _knew_ , would be the wrong thing-

The line cut off and both Legionnaires, with fury in their skin trying to stay below the surface, saw Mekt's image reflected in the telecommunication's glass.

 _(His mask is gone. He's real, he's blameless...he could almost be free. If only he wasn't so resigned, so saddened. There's an understanding that should never be or have been and it **makes them both hurt.** )_

* * *

The brothers had made an agreement, a sort of plan, with Imra's help that they had both been grateful for.

Mekt would be away with Matter-Eater Lad, Star Boy and Ultra Boy, attending to something on a planet Mekt had also been to before that was highly notorious for having the largest Red Light District in the galaxy, with dubious and obvious ties to organized crime in some of the shadier areas with candles instead of electricity and little black doors in the far back that read **Do Not Enter: Staff Only** _(he wouldn't speak of it; he was an expert in a way about the things they would have to deal with, Tenzil had assured Imra when she had asked about their reasons for being perfectly accepting of the elder Ranzz; but Mekt wouldn't talk about it with his brother in the same room...even if he could almost just **know** )_ as an excuse to give Ayla.

Garth would go the the ceremony, a gift from both himself and Mekt in hand to promise that even though one wasn't _(couldn't be)_ there, that didn't mean they weren't proud and glowing about the whole thing. Garth would choke down any negative feelings he'd developed towards their parents, any questions itching in the back of his throat and any looks that would lead Ayla to be as distrusting as Garth now was _(for whatever else they'd done and were, they loved the twins; it didn't count for much, but it must, in someway almost justifiable, count for something)_.

After those events, and promising to bring Ayla to Legion HQ later in the week for a vacation, to see New Metropolis and, especially, to see both brothers at once together, Saturn Girl would call him away, lie to get him off the planet _(not lie to him; lie to the parents, coated in her eyes now with disdain like ink and pity like too much rain in summer)_ and both Garth and Imra would ride back in silence. And a little bit of pain.

Nothing is so similar among the galaxy's alien species as the wish that some good places with good memories should remain untouched and not-jaded by time and age and better understanding; and realizing that nothing is ever perfect, under the surface there are always cracks.

* * *

"You may have deserved a lot of things, but you didn't deserve this!"

The silent of the night in the observation room that was simply "Monitor Duty" to everyone else in the Legion was interrupted in its usual quiet and subdued lighting by Garth's energy field bright and glowing with boiling rage not directed at Mekt in the seat that overlook New Metropolis Park, or directed at Imra standing on the other side of the console nearest the door in case things got ugly _(more so than the events that had been and were happening)_ , but directed back towards Winath where he'd wanted to commit heinous acts more than he ever had in a very long time.

Mekt's face was honest, hurt, but controlled and far more calm than Garth thought he should be; it almost made Imra as angry as Garth was just but brushing his consciousness and finding the worst possible thing given the situation: a kind of horrifying acceptance.

"It's not that bad. So I can't go back to Winath; that's not a big loss."

"People aren't supposed to treat other people like that, though," Imra carefully pointed out, her own anger quietly tucked away to be replaced by the small voice in many others but rather loud in her that was reason, "It's just so, small and wrong and-and-and... petty."

"There are much worse things."

Imra really knew that he meant that in the worst possible way. He knew it to be true.

"They're our parents, though! They're supposed to love you no matter what!"

"They love you and Ayla, Garth, that's enough."

"You're their flesh and blood, for fuck's sake-it shouldn't matter that you're different or that you made a few mistakes along the way."

"It's more than that."

"What, then?! What is it?!"

"Please calm down."

"No, I am not going to calm-"

Mekt held up his hand, much too long and much too thin, blood so blue in his veins that the energy unnatural to most seemed to make the color more than what it was.

"Please. Let me explain."

Imra leaned over in her seat and held Garth's metal arm, aware that even though he couldn't feel it, not technically, it would get him to stop; he hated it when people touched that appendage around Mekt, because Imra had told him that it made Mekt's thoughts numb and inwardly vicious. So he looked over to her with his mouth snapping shut with an audible ' _click_.'

"Garth, let him talk."

"Thank you," Mekt smiled hesitantly at the telepath, her nodding at him almost rigid because that smile was almost like him putting back on his invisible mask, before he continued.

Mekt leaned back in his seat, but his head stayed bowed, humble and afraid, though his voice was firm enough and somber enough to make Garth listen.

"Try to understand, little brother; I am a mistake-"

"You are not-!"

"Garth," Imra hushed, standing and sitting Garth in her own seat so she could stand. It seemed to work, at least a bit, because now the boys were at the same level, neither's head higher than the other, and it made them both aware that Imra was going to keep the peace in the room for as long as it would last.

"Thank you, Imra. And Garth, you _know_ back home at least, I _am_ a mistake. You and Ayla were born in the spring, you're twins, you were healthy and happy and normal growing up; even though you were born Fraternal that's not nearly as bad as being born Solo, in the middle of winter and half the healthy size and weight. Mom and Dad expected me to die, and when I didn't, they couldn't... I don't think they knew how to connect properly. They fed me, they clothed me, they gave me a roof over my head and they made sure I didn't wander off into the wilderness to die; and I think they _tried_ to feel something, but..."

Garth grit his teeth, but didn't interrupt, letting Mekt trail off if not for himself then for the other two.

"Anyway, then you two were born and they bonded and I was a big brother, so it didn't matter that I was a little odd and out of place, because now there was something better to focus on. They were happy they at least had one proper daughter and one proper son, and I was happy that at least I wouldn't be as lonely; I had two new friends. Everything was good and, sure, there were some poor choices and things along the way, but still, it was good. And then I screwed up in the worst way possible.

Just think about it Garth, from their point of view: Not only did I go for a joyride, underage and without any real consideration for the consequences of what could have happened to _just_ me, I brought you two with me. I _crashed_ the ship. I ruined the ship trying to recharge it instead of just calling them and telling them we were stranded. And then not only were you put in danger with the ship being recharged and getting blasted by the Lightning Beasts; but their baby girl was killed and you were scarred for life both literally and figuratively. _And it was all my fault_."

Imra did not pry, she did not want to see this. She'd seen it before, but the image was so visceral in both of them that it echoed and laid ground in her own head like tossing a pebble into a cave where it hit stalactites and brought them hurtling into the cave's belly. Vibration that went on forever, or at least seemed like forever.

 _("That monster's gonna fry us; and when it does, it's gonna be all **your** fault, Mekt!")_

"To them I was responsible for killing my sister and potentially ruining my brother's life... I'm actually surprised Dad didn't just kill me instead of... y'know," he made a vague motion with his hand, jutting his thumb in indication of pointing over his shoulder, head tilting back just ever so slightly, but still more than plenty to make Garth's stomach spasm painful and sharp as acid, "So really Garth, who _wouldn't_ want to fuck me up for that?"

"Is that why you left home? To get away from everything?" Imra asked, cautious and aware that Garth would have asked the same if he wasn't trying to get rid of his shame and failing.

"No... I... I didn't have a choice after I turned fifteen. I finished schooling early, I was old enough to get a job and big enough that I could take tare of myself if needs must and Garth was doing really good in sports and school and everything, so..."

That caught Garth's attention, and this time, he willed himself to speak calmly. Ask what he deep down needed to know.

"...They kicked you out, didn't they?"

"...Yes."

"Mekt, why didn't you _tell_ me?"

"It was easier to let you think I left on my own. You already hated me, there was no reason that you had to hate them."

That made Garth stand up and Mekt lean back, gripping the sides of his chair.

"I didn't hate you, I was _mad_ at you! I was a stupid kid who was mad at his brother for something that _wasn't_ your fault! Not _all_ your fault... And they didn't have the right to do that to you; letting me _be_ mad at you, and then letting you cover for them in saying you were going to _'find your fortune'_ when you weren't much better than a scared teenager who didn't know what the fuck he was doing! And don't you _dare_ tell me you were okay, because you shouldn't have had to do **_half_ ** of the bullshit you did, where you did and how you did it."

"They were protecting their son," was all Mekt could say _( **bring** himself to say, even though it was the wrong thing and made both Imra and Garth want to go out and kill the Ranzz parents for doing this)_ with, again, that acceptance that _shouldn't_ exist.

" _You're_ their son, too and I don't give a damn why they think it was okay to protect me by throwing you away like trash! It should have been obvious when I went after you that they made a mistake; but they either didn't care or were hoping I'd stop caring eventually, too. And after Ayla _came back_ and you _turned **yourself** into prison_ , voluntarily, they should have at least given you another chance."

"Garth, I may have helped Ayla come back, but I also made you lose an arm."

"From what I understand, Mekt," Imra pointed out, "Imperiex was the one who caused that."

"It's still my fault, though. I said a stupid thing, and did a stupid thing, and didn't try to change it or take it back or change what was going to happen. Prison was the least of what I deserved in their eyes, and I can't say I disagree. Imperiex only blew off Garth's arm to make a point, to make sure I was really on his side, or at least afraid of him enough that I would do whatever he said. So, _'the-coward-son-who-went-to-prison-and-nearly-killed-both-of-his-siblings'_ is not something either of our parents are likely to want to associate with for as long as they live. I'm okay with that; I've made peace with it."

"But it's hurting you."

"No, it's not. Not that, anyway; not _them_."

"...You miss Ayla."

"And you're afraid... that they won't let you see her again? Or they'll make it so she doesn't care about you either?"

Now, that was the right thing to say. They could both really _see_ Mekt, not the front keeping him away from people, or the walls built up to protect himself with barbs that cut both ways. Just Mekt; practically shaking to hold himself together as Garth continued, hands moving to almost stretch out and touch his brother, maybe to keep him from falling in on himself. Or just hold him, if he'd allow.

"Oh, Mekt, Ayla could never hate you. She reached out to you even after everything else when she came back; she'd never stop loving you."

"...But she might..." There Mekt's words hitched, they all caught it, and the shaking got worse as his eyes weren't focused on either of them anymore, clouding, and trying not to blink.

"Might, what?"

"You... You were mad at me for _ten years_ , Garth. I get why, I always got why, and I don't blame you for it; I deserved everything that happened to me after I made you a Solo, too. It's just that... I don't want Ayla to be mad at me like that. I mean, eventually she's going to realize she wouldn't have been in that situation for so long if it wasn't for me, and once she gets an idea in her head, she sticks to it like she always did ...and if she decides to stay mad at me for as long as you did I just-I can't-!"

Those too thin, too long hands clutched at the chest that wouldn't allow the air to form the words entrance or exit. Garth's hands finally touched the shoulders shaking so hard and the water in blue eyes flowed like the tides.

"Mekt? Mekt!"

"I c-can't... I-I c-c-can't-t..."

"Garth, he's having a panic attack. Here, just help me... Mekt, bend forward, try to take deep breaths... just like that..."

Garth took to being almost crouched in front of his brother, hands bringing Mekt forward so his head was down nearly to his knees and Imra took to standing behind the chair to make it easier to rub soothing circles along Mekt's back. Both of them pretended they didn't think for a second about the scars hidden underneath the clothes with the new knowledge of who had put them there.

"Mekt, easy, easy... Listen to me now, okay."

"But keep breathing. Listen to Garth, but breathe, please."

He tried to do as they both said. He still radiated the absolute essence of breaking down, but he listened and tried to breathe. Their touching him wasn't exactly helping, exactly... but it wasn't making it worse. And the tears running down his face bothered him less.

"Listen big brother and listen good: Ayla would never, ever treat you the way I did. I was an asshole who was mad at the whole universe for being deprived of my twin, but I took it out on you because it was _easy_. Not because it was justifiable, and not because you happened to be near at hand, but because it was _easy_ to torment and ignore somebody that everyone else held prejudice against because of some stupid fucking thing that wasn't your fault. And when you left, I was so scared I was never going to see you again. Yes, you screwed up a lot along the way in those ten years, but I didn't even try to make it better; I just made it worse."

Garth leaned forward so their foreheads were touching. This an act of something familiar and warm from when they were children that Mekt used to do for him and Ayla when somebody said they couldn't play a game or bullied them or they were just scared of storms raging the sky and hid under their bed.

Mekt lifted his eyes, soaked through with water, to look back at the same endless blue.

"So even if I have to bring Ayla here every single weekend and actually confront our parents about everything and _anything_ else that might happen, I promise, Ayla would never hate you. She loves you. I know this."

"...How?"

"I just do. And even if there was a one in a billionth chance of her hating you... I'd fight 'til I'd die to change her mind."

" _Why_?"

"Because I love you, you idiot. That has not changed. And it _won't_ change."

Mekt didn't look away, but his throat constricted so badly trying to get the words out that he almost did; he stopped himself, but only just.

"...I... I don't want to be alone again, Garth. I _can't_."

"Hey, hey, hey, _listen,"_ Garth shushed, lifting from his crouch to take Mekt's right side, his flesh arm circling around Mekt's waist as Imra took the alternate spot and mirrored as best she could; both warm and safe, loving and giving and perfectly attuned to making sure Mekt understood the sincerity of the moment, "Ayla loves you. I love you."

When Mekt didn't say anything to that, mind awash with uncertainty, but wanting to believe what was being said to him, Imra added, quiet and sincere and absolute in the way she always was that Mekt was actually really appreciative of, "And the Legion's here, too. You're our friend, we care about you, Mekt."

"So you won't be alone."

"...Not again?"

"Not ever."


End file.
